


The Things That Would Have Been

by Derry Rain (smakibbfb)



Category: Call of Cthulhu: Shadow of the Crystal Palace
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smakibbfb/pseuds/Derry%20Rain
Summary: In which Hana Hayashi pays a visit to a friend and Alexandra isn't sure what she's found.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Things That Would Have Been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Settiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/gifts).



The heady scent of incense and low-burned candles wafts from the open door, a welcome cloud of warmth and welcome on a day as grey as this one is turning out to be. Less carefully than she might in other company, Hana lifts her skirts, hopping gracefully over the rain puddle pooling where the steps are worn and not yet repaired. Alexandra steps back to let her pass, a hand outstretched to help, shrugging at Hana’s raised eyebrow.

“Honestly, I’m not here often enough to care overmuch,” she says, smiling. “But I suppose I should get that looked at one of these days.”

Hana shakes her head, small droplets of water scatter from her hat. As Alexandra opens the door, she removes it, hangs it on the nearby stand, where her coat soon follows. “I came as soon as I could.”

Alexandra laughs. “It’s good to see you too, Hana!” She waves a hand as Hana opens her mouth to apologise. “Let me make you some tea, and then I can tell you what I found.” Her eyes are sparkling. If Hana is honest with herself - and she has made it an absolute priority of hers to do so these days - she had spent the hours, days since she had received Alexandra’s letter with a tight black  _ something _ coiling in her stomach. Now, with Alexandra’s blue eyes glittering ice-like behind her glasses, that something is threatening to twist its way fully round her heart. She worries at her lip, before following Alexandra into the small kitchenette. 

“It’s just us today,” Alexandra says, as she busies herself with the kettle. She opens a few jars, sniffing delicately at each one until it seems she has found the one she is looking for. “You know, in Tibet, they make tea with yak butter. I can’t say I took to it very quickly the first time, but really, it did grow on me. It makes quite the rousing start to the day.” She turns. “There is no butter in this, I promise.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hana replies. She leans against the low wooden table, watching Alexandra’s movements. Though her tone is light, cheerful, there’s something tight in the way she’s holding herself, like at any moment every muscle in her body is about to explode in movement. “And I am glad to be here, Alexandra. But your letter…”

Alexandra’s movements still a second, before she bustles over to retrieve two delicate-looking cups. Hana reaches out a hand, lets it rest gently on the small of the other woman’s back. “Just tell me what has you so frantic and then you can share all the butter facts that you know.”

Alexandra sighs, leans back a little into Hana’s touch. Even through the layers of fabric, Hana can feel the rise and fall of her breathing, just a little too fast. “Well technically,” Alexandra says, “it was a tea fact, not a butter fact.” She turns, takes Hana’s hand in both of hers and looks down at her with knitted brows. “I think I found them again, Hana.”

If Alexandra’s hand wasn’t gripping hers so tightly, Hana might have stumbled. She doesn’t ask who  _ they _ are. She doesn’t need to. Dolorous bells and the cracking of glass sound in her head. She feels dizzy. Alexandra is staring at her, grief and worry and hope and exultation all writ in every line of her face. And fear. Fear too, of course. With no conscious movement, Hana steps backwards, pulls a chair out to sit down in, fingers still tangled tightly in Alexandra’s own. 

“After all this time?”

“After all this time.” Alexandra sits down too, pulls her chair close to Hana’s, her face so near that Hana can feel warm breath on her skin. “Look at this.”

From one pocket, Alexandra draws a small silver device. Intricate patterns dance and swirl over the rounded top. With a ragged nail, Alexandra flips it open, holds it face up in her palm so Hana can see. Her own reflection stares back at her. Instinctively, she flinches and Alexandra immediately moves her hand away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

“It’s all right,” Hana’s fist clenches, then opens. She wonders if she should tell her that it takes her minutes every day before she can bring herself to sit at her dresser, and that when she does, her eyes scan every corner of the room reflected in it. She wonders if she needs to. “I’m all right. You could have had a spider in there and then we’d really be in trouble. Show me again.”

Slowly, Alexandra moves the mirror back into Hana’s sight. Looking closely at it now, small and tarnished, Hana can see the edges of the frame are slightly dented, pulled away like the glass was removed at one point. The designs - she had thought them flowers and vines at first, but now she looks closer, she can see - she’s not sure what she can see. The twisting metal doesn’t depict anything organic, but it puts Hana in mind of ocean depths, something dark and reaching. The knot in her stomach seems to pulse in recognition. 

“It’s disconcerting, but I don’t-”

She sees it then. Slowly, hesitantly, she reaches forward, takes the mirror from Alexandra’s fingers. The metal is surprisingly cold to the touch, like holding ice. Her mind registers sharp pinpoints of pain, lightning strikes against her skin, but she ignores it. “Oh.”

Alexandra has released her hand now, and Hana reaches up, runs her fingers over where her reflection is wearing a familiar collared blouse. As the Hana in the mirror loops her fingers through the neatly tied bow, her own fingers meet bare skin. She breathes deep.

“Tell me you see it.” Alexandra’s voice is suddenly tight, jagged, uncertain and Hana looks back up at her. Hair, eyes, lips, Alexandra comes back into focus, and Hana takes a deep breath, centring herself on the contours of her face. With a snap-sharp flick of her wrist, she pushes the mirror to one side, face down on the table. “You did, didn’t you?”

“What was that?” Hana asks, and isn’t certain she wants to know the answer. Alexandra shakes her head. 

“I don’t know yet. The… person… who led me to it, they said it would be useful, but those were all the instructions I was given.” She pauses. “But there’s something else, too.” She reaches for a pocket again; there’s a stumble in her movements which makes Hana’s heart beat faster even than it’s already doing. By now, she’s sure that she knows Alexandra as well as anyone has, and for the first time, she can feel the vulnerability behind the adventure. 

“How many objects do you have squirreled away in there?” She tries, and is grateful for a small twist of a smile appearing at the edges of Alexandra’s lips. 

“Just these last ones,” she says, and closes Hana’s hands around something small, wire and glass. Hana holds them up.

“Glasses?”

“Yes. I found them in my pocket the first time I looked in that mirror.”

“Your spare pair?” Hana knows that can’t be true, but she says it anyway. She turns the glasses over and over in her hands. They are immaculate, worn, clearly, but clean and in perfect condition, an item which someone has taken diligent care over.

“Hana-”

“Mason,” Hana says at last.

Alexandra nods. “Mason.”

“What… do you think it means?”

Alexandra is silent for a long moment, staring off at something distant, far away and thoughtful. Somewhere behind her eyes, Hana knows, are skies and mountains and rivers and stars and everything that Hana wishes she could see. A wide, brilliant smile breaks across her face and she leans forwards, pulls Hana into a tight, desperate embrace. A moment, and Hana lifts her own arms, curls her whole body around Alexandra’s and somehow knows that there is no parting from her now. Something like hope fires in her lungs, her belly, her heart.

And Hana laughs, and the  _ thing _ wound deep inside her laughs, and -

“It means we have to talk to the captain,” Alexandra says into Hana's hair.


End file.
